


South Park One Shots

by Raisalis



Category: South Park
Genre: Craig flips you off a lot, Fluff, Kenny dies a lot, One Shot Collection, Rain, Reader-Insert, Snowball Fight, just lots of weather stuff lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisalis/pseuds/Raisalis
Summary: A collection of SP oneshots. Taking Requests, though be warned the only characters I'm decent at portraying are Kenny, Craig, Kyle, and Tweek.Can also be found on Quotev under my account "Candyse".





	1. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

> Collection of SP oneshots.  
> I don't own South Park.  
> Hope you enjoy! :3

Hey guys, I'm taking Requests for stories.  
If you want something, tell me, I'll get around to it. Good challenges and all.


	2. The Middle Finger (Craig)

     Every single day, every single day, you would get flipped off by the same damn boy as you walked to school. Every day you would give him the bird as thanks, in return. It pissed you off, you barely knew the guy.  
     ...Okay, maybe it didn't piss you off - in fact, you looked forward to the interaction in the mornings. It amused you to no end, plus, you could see the tiny smile he'd give off when you gave him the finger, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Craig Tucker was most definitely not emotionless.  
     Somehow, after months of flipping each other off in the morning, you'd come to know each other. Cliche, right? But for some reason, you could tell him things, and listen to whatever he wanted to say, all through a glance.  
      _Hey, good morning._  Craig flipped to you.  
      _Morning to you too, hope you have a good day._  You flipped back.  
     And he would smile that tiny smile that you came to love.

* * *

  
     One morning, you decided to flip first.  
      _Good morning._  You flipped. Surprise filled his eyes for a second, though no one else would have noticed.  
      _Morning, what's up? You never flip first._  Craig flipped back, confusion quite obvious to you with the tiny, oh so tiny tilt of his head, the tassels of his blue chullo not moving in the slightest.  
     And you smiled a tiny smile that he'd never seen before, that he instantly fell in love with, before you walked away into the school building.

* * *

  
     "Achoo!" You sneezed. Why did you have to catch a cold? You'd think you'd be resistant to the common cold, living in South Park of all places, but no, it just had to be your unlucky day.  
     You didn't even have to tell your mom you weren't going to school that day, she took one look at you as you were coming down the stairs and declared you were staying home. She made sure you were comfortable with tea, soup and blankets in your bed before leaving to go to work.  
     You really loved your mom, she was awesome.  
     It really sucked though that you wouldn't get to see Craig today, but hopefully the time would pass faster as you slept your sickness away.  
     After all, you thought, that boy's quite the worrywart.  
     You fell asleep with a smile, thinking of what you'd say to him when you got better.  
     "Achoo! GOD DAMN IT ALL I JUST WANT TO SLEEP!"

* * *

  
     It took you two days of rest before your mom would let you go back to school, though you were forced to have several tissue packets just in case along the addition of a scarf to cover your nose with should it get cold.  
     Walking along happily, you hummed a bit of a random tune that popped into your head. A tap on the shoulder surprised you though, and you turned around to see Craig.  
     "...H-hey Craig, good morning," you muttered, a middle finger accompanying your words, eyes looking abashedly to the side. You both started walking again down the street.  
     Why was it suddenly so hard to look at him when he was right next to you?  
     You could hear the smile in his voice, just barely, when he replied, "Good morning, how've you been?" Looking back, though not directly at him, you could see his own hand flipping you the bird in return.  
     "I'm much better this morning, thank you. Colds can go suck it," you said, getting over your embarrassment and smiling a bit at him.  
     "Ah, figured you were sick. You never miss school otherwise."  
     "Yeah, I don't exactly like missing it. Too much of a hassle to make up homework, but I was sneezing like no tomorrow."  
     "You're such a nerd." Looking over, you saw mirth in his eyes, and that tiny little smile had turned into a half-smirk.  
     Damn, you really did love him. A blush dusted your cheeks as you frowned at him (though he would later insist you were pouting, as if you would ever pout), "I'm not a nerd, you... you... I don't know, you something!"  
     "Sure you aren't. Come on nerd, let's get to those classes you love so much," he said, grabbing your hand as the school slowly came into view.  
     You were very, very okay with this, and as you flipped him off, he looked back at you and gave you the middle finger too.  
      _Worrywart. I love you._  
      _Love you too, nerd._  
     He quickly dodged a flick aimed at his forehead, giving a small laugh as you pouted and whined that you weren't, in fact, a nerd.  
     "At least you're mine now."  
     "Shut up, you... um..."  
     "Still can't think of anything?"  
     "Damn it, I'll figure out something I can call you if it's the last thing I do!"


	3. Death Count (Kenny)

     If asked to describe yourself, you would never say that you were bloodthirsty or murderous. Ever.  
     ...At least, you didn't think you were, though you were starting to question your sanity as time blurred and the number of Kenny's deaths increased by the day. You started to think you were borderline obsessed with figuring out how he'd die next, how far his blood would fly, if his body would become mangled beyond recognition besides his orange parka.  
     After the first death you'd witnessed, where'd he gone splat due to a fallen tree, and realizing that he was walking around just fine the next day, you quickly realized that no one else remembered his death. Of course, you hadn't asked anyone, and were convinced it was some sort of sick dream you'd had, but when you saw his second death the same day due to a random guy stabbing him during a hit and run, and once again pop up again the next day like nothing happened, you started to watch.  
     Yeah, you pretty much stalked the guy, just to watch how he would die that day. Very rarely, there was a day where he lived, and on those days you would camp out by his window, hidden in the bushes, and watch to see if something would kill him.  
     He was beautiful, you had to admit. You could see why he was popular with the ladies (though, to be honest, you had no clue how he made time for them with the amount of time he spent dead) but thought he looked even better in blood red, lying there in death with his blue eyes slowly closing and the look on his face making him seem like a fallen angel.  
     You logged all of his deaths in a journal after two weeks went by, keeping track of new deaths, repeating ones, which ones were most likely to happen. The prettiest, the ugliest, the weirdest, the awesome. You even took up drawing with a determined passion that surprised people, practicing every day after Kenny died in the hopes that you could draw the fallen angel perfectly.

* * *

 

     Absentmindedly, you sketched something out in your notebook, not really paying attention to the lesson. It was about math or something - at this point you barely even knew what was going on at school and only went because that's where Kenny was, and you very well couldn't watch him without being there yourself. Angel wings slowly formed on the side of the page, the connected shapes gaining more detail, the feathers formed eventually being laced with a dark grey for blood.  
     "Hey, class is over y'know?"  
     Startled, you looked over to where the voice came from. Standing a few desks away from you, the rest of the classroom devoid of life, was Kenny. The scrutiny in his blue eyes was pointed directly at you, only slightly hidden behind his blonde hair that poked out the hood of his parka. Over the last few months he'd started not to pull the strings tight, so you could see his whole face.  
     Of course, you'd already known what he looked like. You made sure those few times that he lived a whole day to memorize what he looked like when he arrived home and took off his parka.  
     "Ah, I hadn't noticed. Thank you for telling me," you replied, giving the boy a smile. Quickly, you packed up your notebook and pencils, hauling your backpack over your shoulder. "Have a nice day, Kenny!"  
     You missed the knowing look he gave you as you walked out the door.

* * *

  
     The first time you saw his death, Kenny thought of you as nothing but collateral. You'd just forget what you saw the next day, anyway, and as a ghost he watched you walk home in a daze. Same thing as, by chance, you saw him get stabbed by the damn drug dealer who'd only gotten out of prison a few days ago (Years ago, when he paraded around as Mysterion, he'd helped arrest the guy. Looks like he remembered his eyes).  
     Then you began to watch. He hadn't noticed at first, to be honest. Kenny never thought it was possible for someone to remember his deaths, but the proof was right in front of him. When he finally noticed after the 10th death you'd witnessed, as he walked around in ghost form and saw you watching from behind a building, eyes glued to his dead body and taking in all the details, he was intrigued.  
     Every day since then, he noticed that you seemed to be everywhere. He finally noticed that you were in his class, and how you were always where he was. Granted, you were very good at hiding in plain sight, and were seemingly busy whenever he saw you, but the journal gave it away.  
     Oh, he definitely noticed the journal, and he had to give you credit for thinking of the idea, however morbid it might be. It was interesting information to both of you, even if you never noticed him reading over your shoulder as a ghost after he died. Over time his deaths became much more creative and different because he learned to avoid the most common deaths that you had noted.  
     Your drawings eventually became commonplace as well. For hours, he'd sit and watch as you drew him in your room. He watched, month after month after month, as you went from a terrible drawer to an amazing one, all so you could draw him the way you wanted. Certainly, a picture was worth a thousand words, and it did not escape Kenny that your favorite thing to draw was him as a fallen angel, covered with blood, his blue eyes seemingly shining bright in death.  
     How could he possibly not fall in love? An anomaly who loved him, could remember his deaths, and didn't pity him for his curse, instead praising it with drawings and notes.

* * *

  
     Later that day, you watched from a bench sipping on hot chocolate with your journal and a drawing pad in hand. You noted that it was likely for Kenny to die by drowning today, as he skated on the frozen Stark Pond with his group of friends. Someone would probably knock into him or something, he'd fall, and break the ice. A clean death with no blood, though suffocation is painful even if you're numbed by the cold.  
     It never happened, though. Somehow he lucked out, and as the rest of his friends left for the day, you were slightly disappointed. You were so intent on watching, just in case, that you had barely drawn anything. That was okay, though. Nothing involving Kenny was a waste of time, after all.  
     Then his eyes locked with yours, and you could only tense and give a slight smile as he walked over towards you.  
     "Mind if I sit with you?" He asked, not waiting for a response as he plopped next to you on the bench and let out a tiny sigh of relief to be sitting.  
     You replied, "I don't mind at all. How're you?"  
     "Eh, I've got a cute girl next to me on a bench, so I'm doing pretty good," he said, giving you a smirk that would melt even the frostiest hearts.  
     How Kenny-like. And blush-inducing.  
     "I see. I'm doing pretty well also, mister flirt," you said, turning your eyes back to your drawing pad as you sipped on your drink. Even if you hardly talked to him, you could never feel awkward in his presence - a benefit from watching all day everyday, and seeing him die so many times. Kenny was a comfortable figure next to you.  
     "What're you up to, alone out here?" Kenny asked.  
     "Drawing. Enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate. People watching."  
     "You like people watching?"  
     "It's helpful to people watch if you're an artist, you know."  
     He turned to look at you fully, and as you looked back at him his eyes seemed to glow, a small knowing smile stuck on his lips.  
     "What if I told you," he started, "that I know everything?"  
     You froze. He couldn't, could he? You always made sure you were hidden, always far enough away, always so careful and secretive...  
     With a strained, innocent smile you asked, "What do you mean, Kenny?"  
     "You know what I mean. Also, can I just say that I like the painting on your door the best? It's really well done, and the colors just go together really well. You know, the one you finished a few days ago?" He stared at you with a bigger smile. You could tell it was playful, but the honesty was there.  
     He knew.  
     "H-how...?" You stuttered out.  
     "I turn into a ghost after I die, deary. I've read every single page in that journal, which, by the way, helped me avoid the more common deaths, thank you for that. I've seen you go from beginner sketcher to nearly professional artist. I know everything."  
     "...Oh."  
     "Do you happen to know why you remember my deaths?"  
     This was something you'd thought about for a long time, with absolutely zero conclusions.  
     "No, do you know?" You asked.  
     "Not a clue," he answered, "but honestly, I could care less about the reason. All that matters is that you not only remember, but love me for it. You're amazing, y'know?"  
     You didn't know what to do other than blush.  
     "I'm not that amazing, but..." You trailed off. Ah, screw it, he obviously didn't think you were weird if he was calling you amazing, "I do love you. You're quite beautiful, you're like a fallen angel."  
     He gave you a soft smile that you'd never seen before, gently taking your drink and drawing pad from you and putting them to the side so he could cup your face.  
     "Love you too, dear."  
     And he lent in, vowing to make his life a bit better with you in it.


	4. Rainy Day (Kyle)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I literally just realized I'd never posted this one, even though I posted it a while ago on Quotev.  
> Whoopsisessssss

You loved rainy days. Rain was peaceful, and you could listen to it pound for hours on end. It was cooling if you went out, and you didn't mind the cold or wetness that it would result in.  
You were pretty sure you were the only person who  _didn't_  wear a hat to school, or wherever they went. Your peers seemed to have an obsession with hats, those evil pieces of clothing that would irritate you more than help keep you warm. Besides, you didn't mind having your hair seen, whether it was frizzy or not. Why wear a hat?

Besides, most days it didn't rain. It wasn't  _super_  rare, like a day of full sunshine, but it snowed more often than not, and the white puffs looked rather cute when they speckled your hair and clothes (in your opinion). But when it did rain, well...

"______! Wait up! Geez, how do you have so much energy right now..."

"BUT KYLE IT'S RAINING-"

"Rain sucks, ______."

"AND I JUST WANNA JUMP IN PUDDLES-"

"______ you're going to catch a cold at this rate."

You pouted at him. "Why must you always try to ruin my fun, Ky?"

He gave a judgmental stare in return. "You're the one who left without a jacket. I had to run and get it for you instead," he said, shoving the offending piece of clothing in your face. "Now put it on, _______"

"No."

"______..."

"I don't wanna."

"God damn it, ______, you love your jackets every other minute of your life, why not now?"

"Kyle," you told him, gesturing frantically around you, "just  _look_. It's  _raining_."

He replied blankly, "Your point?"

" _Rain_."

"_______, I  _hate_  rain."

You let out a horrified gasp. " _Kyle!_  You can't hate rain, rain is wonderful!" you exclaimed, finally taking the jacket from him. You tied it around your waist, though, and Kyle let out an irritated sigh.

"Look how drenched we both are, now. Rain is absolutely despicable, have you  _looked_  at yourself? You're shivering and your hair is matted like a sad dog," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets now that they were free of holding anything.

You gave him a cocky little grin is response, and teased him, "You calling me a sad bitch, Ky?"

He sputtered, "T-thats not what I meant and you know it! It's just a comparison, sheesh."

Taking advantage of his lowered guard, you swiped a hand up, snatching his green hat and running away, snickering.

"________ _why_? GET BACK HERE!" he yelled, sprinting off after you. Of course, to your delight, it suddenly started raining harder at that moment, and when you looked back his fluffy hair had already been flattened against his head.

Secretly, you noted that he managed to look both adorable and hot at the same time with that upset expression combined with his now dripping wet hair. It took away the usual fuzziness that it had, and it was quite an interesting sight.

Quickly, you stopped and pulled out your waterproof-ed phone and snapped a couple pictures. This had been your goal in racing out like you did, after all, since you  _knew_  Kyle hated rain because of how it made his hair even frizzier once it dried; combine that with his skill in avoiding getting his hair wet period, and you'd had to take some... desperate measures to see him like this.

It was so worth it.

Kyle was flustered and fuming, and you gave him an elated smile when he sent you a heated glare and scowled. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it," he growled, "you  _know_  how much I hate getting wet."

"Sorry," you apologized, looking away from him, "but I just- I've never seen you with wet hair before and I got curious. You were always so defensive about it and I couldn't help it."

He was still angry, but you could see him starting to deflate, and you went the extra mile for the hell of it, "If it's any consolation, you've got the perfect wet hair style. You somehow manage to pull off being both adorable and hot at the same time. Maybe it's the freckles? The eyes? Hmm..."

Kyle's face had already been red from the cold, but in that moment it turned even more so; a full on blush covered his face, his eyes widened, he started stuttering and-

-and you took another picture so you could gush over him more, later.

"_-__-______? Please delete those.  _Please_. For my sake," he pleaded.

" _Nope!_ " you giggled, the photos already backed up to a separate account. You put your phone away again, then ran up to Kyle and hugged him, "Love you Kyle~"

Maybe it was because the rain was making him shiver, maybe it was his embarrassment, maybe it was you hugging him, or maybe it was a combination of everything about the situation, because the only thing he could say was-

"-What the fuck kind of confession even is this? Love you too, ________."

"Yay! You finally admitted it, now we can be official!"

He buried his face in your hair, hugging you back tightly. "Yeah yeah, whatever, just shut up. You better make sure  _no one_  gets those pictures. Especially Cartman.  _Especially him._ "

"Don't worry, he's never been able to get anything of mine and he never will be able too," you reassured him. You neglected to mention that you had Cartman convinced you were the scariest person alive, and would easily kill him with the flick of a finger if he messed with you.

That was a story for another time, though.

* * *

"ACHOO!"

"I told you you'd get sick if you didn't put on the jacket, but  _no_ ,  _someone_  just  _had_  to get those pictures of me."

You pouted as he ruffled your hair, but decided to give him mercy by not saying what you were thinking.

_He was acting like a mother hen, and doing basically everything to take care of you. Cooking, cleaning, store runs - holy shit Kyle was adorable._


	5. Snowball Fight (Kenny)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a continuation of Death Count??? Same universe, just a later date. It can be read on its own though as a Kenny Oneshot, where it's already an established relationship.

"Hiiii-YAH!" You yelled, throwing the first of what would come to be many snowballs at Kenny, who was walking down the road. You'd ran outside as soon as school started to the fort you'd made earlier that morning, which held a stash of snowballs and was rather impressively built (in your opinion, at least). Of course, to do so, you'd flat out ignored Kenny's calls asking where you were running to, which you felt kind of bad about but...

Well, you had to sacrifice some things to get what you wanted; such was life.

"What the f-" Kenny startled, whipping around towards the bushes where you hid before getting a face full of snow.

A wide grin broke out on your face.

 _'Yes! Bulls-eye!'_  You thought, quickly gathering up another snowball to pelt the poor blonde with again.

Little did you know, however, that the war you were about to start would grow to enormous sizes.

* * *

"Oh __________, come out and play~"

You shivered slightly from behind the tree you'd slowly moved towards over the past hour. Several sets of footsteps crunched across the snow behind you, and you prepared to bolt out in the open to hopefully fend them off until you got to the snow wall constructed a few yards in front of you.

Deep breaths.

 _Go!_  you thought, slamming a snowball into the face of whoever it was that was closest to the tree, then sprinting for the wall. Snowballs splatted the trees and ground around you, but you managed to slide behind the wall before any hit you. Kyle met you behind the wall, and you high-fived each other as you started pelting the group with your pre-made snowballs.

"Damn it!" you heard Cartman yell, "How the fuck did you let her get away!"

"You're just mad because she wrecked your face in with a snowball. Oh man, that was great!"

"Shut the fuck up Clyde!"

You heard a frightened cry.

"Hey! We're on the same team dude, not cool!" Clyde shouted, before you heard another 'oof'.

This time it was Cartman who got hit, and he yelled, "Alright, that's it! Traitor!"

You glanced over at Kyle, who met your gaze with a grin. A quick peek over the wall showed an angry Cartman and Clyde going at each other with snowballs, Craig sighing while trying to calm down a snow-covered Tweek, and Kenny standing off to the side with his face in his hands.

"Let's go," you whispered, quietly leaving your wall of safety and running back to your base fort with Kyle once you were out of their sight.

"Oh thank god you guys are back!" you were greeted by a frantic Stan, "One of our walls fell down, we're trying to build it back up but the snow isn't holding, help us out here."

And so you went about rebuilding the wall with your team. You supposed you got lucky with your teammates - you had Kyle, Stan, Wendy, and Butters on your team; so, while you were down one person, your team didn't have cooperation issues like the other one.

That, and you could've sworn you saw Damien and Pip join in as a third team at some point; you were pretty sure they were helping pelt Cartman with snowballs, so you counted them as allies.

Once the wall was finished, you went out scouting again, this time on your own. After walking for a few minutes, you heard the tell-tale yells of arguing.

Geez, those two were really going at it. You followed the sound and peeked into the same clearing that you'd left 20 minutes ago, only to find that they were still fighting. Tweek somehow had even  _more_  snow on him despite standing off to the side, Craig was trying to wipe it off to no avail, and Kenny had disappeared.

 _...That's not a good thing_ , you realized, suddenly much more wary of your surroundings. He was probably hiding, waiting for someone to come looking for their team - or rather, he was probably waiting for you.

This started as a snowball fight between you two, after all. You just happened to run into Kyle, Stan, and Cartman when you were running away, and it all just spiraled down into war after that.

You heard a quiet rustle behind you and you quickly flew into action. Quickly spinning around, you flung your snowball as hard and fast as you possibly could; you were rewarded with a yelp for your fast thinking, and you grinned as you saw Kenny wiping snow off his face.

"Damn honey, you couldn't have thrown it a bit less powerfully?" he groaned, face finally free enough that he could talk and open his eyes, "You haven't killed me yet, but you just might at this rate - though to be honest, I don't think I'd mind if it was you."

"Sorry, sorry, I just got excited," you said, going over to him and helping wipe off the rest of the snow from his hair. You gave him a quick peck on the nose once you'd finished.

He grinned before pouting playfully, "Oh, ________, I think you missed. You gotta put one," he pointed to his lips, "right here."

You hummed, answering, "Oh, no, I don't know - I might be accurate if you surrender and admit I've won this war."

Before you could do anything else though, you were suddenly pulled forwards into the snow, lips pressing hard into yours. Right as you were about to relent, though, a sudden cold dripped down your back.

Pulling away quickly, you scrambled to get rid of the snow in your shirt, and Kenny was sprinting away while laughing.

" _KENNETH MCCORMICK- YOU-"_

" _Love you babe!!!!~"_

You felt quite satisfied when a huge chunk of snow fell from a tree and crushed the poor boy.

Serves him right for tricking you.

* * *

** Omake: **

Kenny looked over your shoulder the next day and pouted.

"Really _______? And you're drawing it so happily..."

You just grinned at him and kept humming.

Doodles of Kenny getting crushed by snow filled the sketchbook in front of you; most of them had angel wings breaking off of him.

* * *

** Omake 2: **

Tweek was out sick the next day.

"Why was Tweek so covered in snow yesterday? I left the clearing for like, 20 minutes, come back and it'd gotten even worse..." you asked Craig, who had greeted you with a middle finger.

He replied, "Oh, he kept shaking the trees too much with his twitching when he leaned on them. He kept having snow fall off the branches and leaves when he was hiding."

A few feet away, Kenny suddenly turned sullen and started mumbling about how the snow would kill him but not Tweek.

_...Cute._


End file.
